


Guard

by SilverMidnight



Series: Manfred Pain [1]
Category: Midnight Texas (TV)
Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Sort of selfharm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 16:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12193893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverMidnight/pseuds/SilverMidnight
Summary: Manfred can't sleep and all he wants is for the ghosts to be quiet.





	Guard

**Author's Note:**

> I am in love with Midnight, Texas. I just love it so much. I can't wait to see more of the series and just really excited! (Except Creek. Fuck Creek)
> 
> I have other ideas for stories too. Though I can't decide if I want to write something with a hunter coming to retire there or having another psychic (this one being more of an empath) coming. Tell me what you think!
> 
> If you want to be kept up to date with redos on stories or want to know more about stories that will be started soon or even ask me to write a story for you please follow me on Facebook or on Tumblr (I made a Tumblr!) under SilverMidnight52! I own nothing!

Yawning Manfred covered his mouth with his hand as his whole body shook. He had been laying in his bed for hours now and hadn't been able to sleep a wink. Something that had been happening more and more often.

It wasn't as if he was a good sleeper, but it had never been this bad before and he usually had a ghost that was keeping him up. Okay, so there were some outside of the house that were making some noise, but they weren't inside.

He had never been able to actually hear the spirits as well as he could now. Normally he had to be in the same room at the very least. Now it was as if the whole spirit world was having a rowdy party all the time.

Now he was going on his fourth night with no sleep. He felt as if he was going to go insane and there was nothing he could do about it. All he wanted to do was get a few hours of sleep. Hell, he didn't even care if he had a nightmare as long as he slept.

Groaning to himself he rolled onto his side and stared out the window. The smoke that he was so used to seeing when a ghost came was floating there just like normal. There was always a spirit waiting for him.

He couldn't really tell anything about the spirit in the form it was taking, but based off the screams and pleas he knew that it wasn't pleasant. Why couldn't he run into a nice, friendly ghost that just wanted to tell someone they loved them before moving on?

Instantly he rolled away from the window not wanting to deal with whatever was going on out there. He was failing at sleeping right now not failing at helping some poor soul that never got the chance to crossover.

Pulling his pillow over his head he clenched his eyes shut trying his hardest to block out the noises of people not there. The fleeting thought of bashing his head into the wall came and went once more. It might make the ache work, but it would be worth it in the end.

At this point he was willing to do just about anything to just get some shut eye. He had thought that Fiji making his house dead proof would be helpful. He couldn't believe how wrong he had been about that.

He had been excited though. No ghosts could come and try to jump him when his guard was down. He could let his guard down a little. He could have a little sanctuary from all the dead things that found him.

If he was honest though he knew that it was his own fault. When his Grandmother had told him to go to Midnight he had had a… Not bad feeling, but a cautious one. He knew that she wasn't telling him everything.

That wasn't actually all the strange. Ever since he was a child he knew that the older woman was keeping something from him. There was just something in her eyes when she stopped and looked at him. Something he couldn't figure out.

At first he had thought that she didn't want him with her. It had been kind of abrupt on his Mother's part. If Xylda didn't want him though she never let on. She loved him just as much as he loved her.

Still, with all the love something was amiss. That didn't stop him from doing what she wanted though. From helping her kill herself to going to Midnight after. He had done what she said because he trusted that she was trying to help. Mostly.

There was also the fact that he was more than a little desperate. He had been running for awhile and needed somewhere to go. She had given him a place and he had decided to ignore all of his instincts and go.

After all this time he should have known that acting on pure desperation was never a good idea. He was smarter than that. At least he had hoped he was. That did nothing to stop him from going to a place that he knew felt off.

That was his MO. He would follow the person he thought wouldn't do too much damage and not listen to himself. Especially when it came to his Grandmother. The woman was so much more powerful than he could ever dream of being.

Now though… He didn't think he could do that anymore. She was dead and even though he trusted her he knew that he was on his own. He had to start listening to himself or he was going to end up haunting some other poor psychic. That was not how he wanted to go out.

Everything was different than it used to be. Midnight had changed what he had thought he knew. Hell, it had changed him and he hadn't been there for all that long. He did not like that either. He might not like the man he was all the time, but he knew that man.

Coming to the town should have been a good thing. He was finally surrounded by people that didn't think he was weird when they saw him talking to thin air. They knew that there was a ghost and that was it.

Instead he felt even more alone than he had when no one believed him. He was just so tired of being the weird one. Even in a town full of supernaturals he felt left out. It wasn't anyone but his fault either and he knew it.

He just didn't have a place in the world. Well, outside of his Grandmother's trailer. He never should have gotten a real house. All it did was give him a false sense of security. He couldn't believe just how stupid he could be sometimes.

Sighing he threw the pillow across the room. It was doing nothing to stop the screams and pleas. There was no way that he was going to be getting any sleep in that house. Without putting much thought into his actions the man stood up and made his way outside.

He knew that in his mind that there was no place for him to go that the ghosts wouldn't find him, but that didn't stop him. At that point he was beyond thinking. All that mattered to him was getting somewhere quiet.

Now that he was outside though the noises only seemed to get louder. Smoke rushed around him as the spirit started to take form. As soon as it looked like a human a high pitched wail left it causing him to flinch back.

Wrapping his arms around himself he tried to ignore the shiver that ran down his spine as the wind picked up. He didn't know if it was the ghosts doing or if it was really just windy, but it cut through him.

It suddenly occurred to him that he should have put on a shirt or at least a pair of shoes. He had been so desperate to get somewhere quiet that he hadn't thought. It didn't matter either way. Clothes or not he'd be frigid.

Shaking his head he tightened his hold and continued down the street. He tried so hard to focus solely on the gravel crunching under his feet. He had heard the sound every day for months. He should be hearing it now.

Instead a child's laughter cut through the screams. He didn't have to turn around to know that a little girl had started to follow him as well. She had been around him for weeks now. No matter how many times he tried to talk to her all she did was continue laughing.

Now that he was out of his house it seemed as if all the ghosts that had been waiting for him came out to play. A new voice joined the already loud voices with every step he took. Some didn't say anything at all while others called out for his help.

Clenching his jaw he reached up and covered his ears with his hands trying to block the voices out. Voice after voice called for his attention causing him to spin around were he stood not knowing where he was supposed to be looking.

His nails dug into his scalp hard, but the pain barely registered over everything else he was feeling. His breathing came out in gasps as tears of frustration started to slip down his face. He was so tired and it hurt so much.

"Shut up! Please!" Manfred cried out falling to his knees his nails clawing at his ears and head, "Shut up! Leave me alone! Please, just leave me alone!"

His begging was barely loud enough to be heard over the voices of the dead. Violently he clawed at his scalp and ears hoping to get the noise to stop. He never wanted to hear another ghost again.

A small part of his brain registered that his hands were getting slippery with his blood, but he didn't stop. He wouldn't stop. Not until the world was silent for good and he could finally go the fuck to sleep!

Whimpers of pain left his lips as even more voices joined in. He didn't realize that they were different until he felt a pair of strong hand wrap around his wrists attempting pulling them away from his head.

"No," Manfred begged kicking his legs out and connecting with something, "No. Please. Let me go. Please, let me go!"

He tried his hardest to get out of the grip, but it was too strong. Not thinking he began to twist and throw his head back only to have more hands pin him down. A scream left his lips as he found himself completely unable to move.

Suddenly an arm wrapped around his waist and everything started to wash away. His whole body went limp letting whomever was behind him take his full weight. Everything felt heavy and the last thing he registered was a hand running through his hair before he was out.

When he came to he was laying on something soft as soothing hands rubbed at his head. Making a confused noise he felt the hands move back. A part of him wanted to put it down to some weird dream and go back to sleep, but he couldn't.

"Manfred?" a soft voice questioned forcing his eyes to open and focus on the person above him.

"Fiji," he spoke his voice cracking painfully.

A sad smile came to her lips as she placed whatever she was holding on the table. He opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong when a shot of pain echoed through his body. Hissing he reached for his head only to have her stop him.

"Here," a new voice spoke a cup of water appearing before him, "Might help a little."

Gathering the little energy he had left Manfred looked over and saw the Reverend standing there with the same look as Fiji had. The psychic was really starting to hate that look, but it seemed to be standard in Midnight.

Actually, that was a lie. It was normal for the older man. He didn't know what went on in the weretiger's mind, but he really wished that there was something he could do to help soothe the pain that he obviously felt.

Looking away from the man's face he attempted to focus on the glass, but it seemed to blur around the edges. There was no way that he was going to be able to take it into his own hands and drink without breaking it.

Emilio seemed to understand that because he carefully knelt beside the bed. A strong but careful hand cupped the back of his head and helped tilt it up so he didn't choke. He had never been more grateful for water in his life.

He didn't get more than a few sips before it was being pulled away, but based off how he was feeling that was probably a good thing. A soft voice told him to stop acting like a child, but he pushed the thoughts away. When his thoughts finally came back to him he knew that he'd be embarrassed.

For now though he was just going to let them do what they thought needed to be done. It wasn't as if he was up to fighting either of them. Based off the look Fiji was giving him... He wasn't sure he had a choice.

"Thanks," Manfred whispered when his head was resting on the pillows again.

"Are you feeling better?" the Reverend asked his whiskey eyes staring at him.

"I don't… I don't know. Tired? I think?"

Emilio and Fiji shared a look that he couldn't figure out before the witch was standing up and leaving the room. That was when he realized that he wasn't in his house. The best he could figure was he was in Fiji's, but that made no sense.

He wanted to question what was going on, but one look from the Reverend had him keeping his mouth closed. For a moment the two men stayed there in an awkwardly peaceful silence before Fiji came walking in with a mug in her hands.

The older man calmly moved to his feet and helped arrange Manfred so he was propped up by some pillows. If it had been any other time he would have been amused by how many pillows the woman had, but that would have to wait.

All of the movement seemed to make the ache that was coursing through him turn into full on pain. Shutting his eyes he swallowed reflexively hoping that he wasn't going to throw up all over his friend's bed.

Once he was sure that wasn't going to happen he let his eyes blink open. The first thing he saw Emilio watching him worriedly. When their eyes met though he smiled gently and moved away. It made no sense to him.

The two of them were friendly, but he wouldn't think of them as friends. He wouldn't think of anybody in Midnight as friends. He just didn't know any of them well enough. Not that he actually been trying.

He wanted to know the people, but he knew that he didn't belong. It wouldn't be too long before he was moving to another town. It was easier on everyone if they didn't try to get attached to him.

That was what he did. Staying in one place never felt right to him. That was why his house was on wheels. Whenever he needed to he'd just close the door and he'd be gone before anyone even knew he was there.

Except this time he wanted to stay. He wanted the small town to be his home. The people were nice and liked him. For some reason. He didn't think anyone would blink too much if he just stayed for awhile.

Still, that wasn't the life that he led. He was a con. He knew it and, as much as he hated it sometimes, he couldn't fight it. It wasn't as if there were a lot of places for a guy that sees ghosts to work.

He had tried to. For awhile. It was probably strange that his rebellious stage was him getting a job, but that was what he did. It took all of a week before he was back to the trailer with his hat in his hand. He still didn't know exactly what happened.

Xylda hadn't said anything though. She simply opened the door as if she was expecting him. Knowing the older woman that was completely possible. He never got away with much of anything when she was around.

All of that came to a head now. He didn't do permanent. In any sense of the word. He had no idea how to do the whole family and friends things. The only person that he had been a constant in his life had been Xylda.

Now he had people that he cared about and he barely knew them. Those people cared about him too. They cared when all they knew was that he was a con that was running from his past. They simply cared. What was he supposed to do now that he cared about other people and they cared for him?

"Here," Fiji said sitting on the edge of the bed, "This should help."

Slowly she lifted the tea to his lips just as the older man had, but this time he didn't drink. He knew that if he did than he was going to have to wait for the answers that he needed. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

"Thanks," Manfred offered turning his head way, "But… What happened?"

A sigh fell from the witch's lips as she pulled the mug away. Manfred hated that he had done that to her, but he needed to know. Everything seemed like it was a blur and that was a feeling that he hated.

"What's the last thing you remember?" the Reverend questioned making him look over.

"Laying in bed," the psychic shrugged, "Not sleeping. Again. Why?"

"You must have decided to go for a walk. You had gotten close to the church before you fell to your knees and started to scream. You were pleading for them to be quiet. Everyone came outside to see what was going on. None of us were able to see anything so we figure that it was spirits that you were hearing.

"Joe and myself were attempting to get your attention when started to claw at your ears. You did some damage to yourself before I could get to you and pin you arms down. You fought to get way from me so Lem came and leeched some of your emotions away. When you were asleep I carried you to Fiji's so she could heal your wounds while you slept."

Licking his lips Manfred nodded before taking a deep breath. At least he tried to. With every word the older man spoke more and more of the night came back to him. He suddenly remembered all the ghosts that were waiting just beyond the walls.

His whole body began to shake as his thoughts got away from him. He didn't want to deal with that again. He couldn't deal with that again. There was so much pain and fear in the ghosts and they wouldn't leave him alone.

Pulling his knees to his chest he rested his head on them holding back tears. He didn't know how he could have forgotten what had happened, but now that he remembered he knew it was only a matter of time.

"Manfred," Fiji soothed rubbing her hand over his arm, "It's okay. You're at my place. No ghosts here."

He could hear the hope in the witch's voice and he wished that he could return it. He just couldn't do it. They might be silent right now, but he knew that it wouldn't be long before they were back. They were just waiting.

Fiji seemed to sense that that didn't help because a moment later he was wrapped in a hug. He couldn't help but lean forward letting himself fall into her. It had been so long since someone had held him.

Behind him he felt the bed sink as the older man sat down. A strong hand began to gently work the tense muscles in his back causing him to relax ever so slightly. He couldn't let his guard down yet. He couldn't let his guard down every again.

"Why don't you go to sleep, Manfred?" the Reverend asked after a moment.

"I can't sleep," the psychic offered with a shrug.

"The tea I made will help if you want to give it a try," Fiji jumped in her voice barely over a whisper.

"I just want it to stop. I just want it to be quiet."

Pulling back he stared into the witch's eyes pleading with her. He knew that it wasn't fair for him to be asking this of her, but he was out of options. There had to be something that she could do for him.

She smiled and reached for the tea once more holding it for him. From behind him a strong arm wrapped around his waist keeping him anchored as he was slowly brought back to lay on him. He didn't want to admit just how good that felt.

"You're safe, Manfred," the weretiger soothed, "We're here and nothing is coming."

"He's right," Fiji continued nodding her head, "You're home now."

"I don't have a home," Manfred argued softly.

"Of course you do, silly. All you have to do is stay. You're a Midnighter now. You're family."

Before he could say anything back the tea was pressed against his lips. He knew that he could refuse her once more, but that came with refusing Midnight itself. That was the last thing that he wanted to do.

He was able to take a few sips before it was being pulled away. The affects happened almost immediately as his eyes grew heavy. He barely registered Fiji laying by his side her head on his stomach before they closed.

"Go to sleep," the Rev whispered into his ears his grip tightening slightly, "We'll be here when you wake up."


End file.
